Girls
by Chash
Summary: The girls taught Jack everything. (Slash, JackEric)


Title: Girls

Author: Chash (chash@shinra.org)

Pairing: Jack/Eric

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, etc., etc.

Summary: The girls taught him everything.

            Jack learned everything from the girls.  It had probably always been in his brain, but it was the girls who really taught it to him.  Not that they meant to, it was just run off from their words.  His own interpretation of what they said.  When Jack couldn't stand the girl he had, the girl so different from him that he thought they were speaking different languages, he'd thought the answer was the one just like him, the one who was a mirror with breasts and long hair.  But she didn't want him at all.  She didn't want someone just like her.  It would be boring.  She wanted someone like Eric.

            And Jack thought about it and realized she was a mirror with breasts and long hair, and she was right about what the two of them wanted.  They wanted someone like Eric.  Jack wondered if she'd realized how easy it was to get what they wanted, how close their desire was.  

            Jack spent an awful lot of time with himself, but he spent almost as much time with Eric, so he didn't need another person like Eric in his life, but thought he needed another one like himself.  He hadn't had to do without Eric in a long time, so he hadn't realized that, should he lose a girl like him and Eric, the one he'd miss most wouldn't be the girl like him.

            When Rachel left, Jack and Eric stayed together, though they hadn't been together at the time.  They'd ended up together, because Eric had heard that Jack and Rachel had broken up, and just called.  

            "I still have a spare bed, if you need one," he'd said, amazingly smart and calm and rational for Eric.  And Jack had realized that he'd never needed another one of himself.  

            "Yeah, thanks," Jack had responded, without any of the questions he should have asked, like "where?" or "why?" or "how did you know?" because it didn't matter anyway.  He'd been going for so long with just himself for company, and it had been driving him nuts.  Somehow, Rachel wasn't company.  Rachel was too much like him.  Rachel was not enough like Eric.  When Eric was there, Jack could deal with Rachel.  But there were voids in Jack's life without Eric, and they were far larger than the ones without Rachel.

            He arrived at Eric's door with a duffel bag and knocked, feeling awkward knocking on Eric's door because for the longest time, he never would have had to knock.  But things changed—Jack knew that.  Jack was aware.  But somehow, knowing that didn't make him feel better.

            Eric opened the door half asleep—Jack hadn't noticed it was only ten a.m.—and then grinned, his eyes still not fully open, at the sight of Jack.

            "Hey, buddy!" his voice was artificially cheerful, Eric's was, but Jack dismissed it as weariness.  Eric hugged him, an Eric hug, all energy and impetuousness.  And Jack almost relaxed and forgot all about Rachel, because he wasn't alone with himself anymore.

            It was almost the same, except that Jack knew that it couldn't be.  He knew, and he knew Eric knew, that in a basic way, he'd left Eric for Rachel, and Eric resented it.  They should have been friends, he and Eric should have, above any kind of relationship Jack had with Rachel.  But Jack had been silly, and Eric had been quiet, and now they were both tiptoeing around something they didn't want to name.  And Jack was thinking of the girls, always of those girls, who knew more than he did about what he wanted.  And had known how to say it so easily.  It was so simple.

            Jack was scared.  Jack wanted to say something.  Jack wanted to kiss Eric, which was the weirdest sensation he'd ever had, the feeling of imagining Eric's stubble scraping his own, the idea of Eric's always slightly cold hands in his hair.  It made him shiver, sent pins and needles dancing on his spine, and he wanted it with an aching he didn't want to explain.

            He was going to call his brother.

            "Shawn?"

            "Jack."

            "How'd you know?"

            "Your slightly neurotic, slightly nervous, completely heartbroken tone is unmistakable."

            "Oh really," replied Jack, dubiously.  Shawn laughed over the line.

            "And caller I.D.  What can I do for you?"

            This was, Jack decided, an excellent question.  What was he going to do?  Confide in Shawn everything he'd been thinking?  Was he supposed to say to his brother, "here is my problem, now make it better?"  Fuck.  Jack was supposed to be the smart one, the capable one, the one who knew what was going on.

            "Jack?"

            "I'm having girl trouble," said Jack, finally.

            "Obviously.  Your girl broke up with you."

            "Not with Rachel.  With a new girl," he said, thinking all the while that if Eric _was a girl, he wasn't a new one.  _

            "Oh ho, already on the prowl again, are we?  I didn't think you'd be so quick on the rebound."

            "Look, it's… I've been in love with her for… I just didn't.  Oh fuck, I give up," Jack finally said, and slammed down the phone.

            Within a few seconds it rang again.  Jack picked up.  Shawn's voice was on the other line, gloating.

            "So, Eric."

            "I'm Jack."

            "I know you're Jack.  But you're talking about Eric."

            Jack was not really sure how to respond to this.  Of course it was true, and it made his job easier, but that didn't mean he was particularly ready to discuss this with his little brother.

            "Yes," he said, finally.  "How did you know?"

            "My adolescence was spent judging which girls wanted me, Jack.  I'll admit it was easier, because ALL the girls wanted me, but still."

            "Right," said Jack.  
            "Besides, I *lived* with you two.  It was painful half the time.  You'd give him these revolting long, loving looks."

            "I would not."

            "You would."

            Jack considered this.  "I don't suppose he gave me those looks?"

            He knew it had been a bad idea to ask, and this knowledge was cemented by the cackle of laughter from the other end of the phone.  Jack sighed.

            "I'll hang up again."

            "No, you won't.  You want my help."

            "So be helpful!"  
            "He's not a girl."

            "That's what you call helpful?"

            "Don't treat him like a girl.  Treat him like Eric."

            "I have been treating him like Eric!  I don't want to just treat him like Eric!  I want him to be more than Eric!"

            "So tell him," said Shawn, irritatingly calm.  Jack swore inventively.

            "Thank you, Shawn.  I never thought of that."

            He slammed the phone down, but of course the words stayed in his ears, ringing there.

            "Hey, Eric?" asked Jack, walking into the room.  Eric was on the couch, watching TV.  He turned, and Jack swallowed, trying to get rid of everything he was feeling.  It didn't work.

            "Yeah?"

            "I, um," he said, which was an awful way to start a conversation.  He turned off the TV with a swift motion.  "I wanted to thank you, for letting me stay here."

            Eric grinned.  "No problem!  We're buddies, right?"

            "Yeah…" he paused.  "Listen, Eric, do you remember the girls?"

            "Which girls?" asked Eric, because it would be just too perfect if he knew, at once, everything Jack was trying to convey.

            "Those two girls we found, the ones who were like us.  We wanted to date them, but couldn't agree about it."

            "You aren't making a lot of sense," Eric observed.  Coming from Eric, this had to be serious, because Eric never made sense but always seemed to know what he was saying.

            "I had the one who was like you, but I wasn't smart enough to want her."

            Eric blinked at this statement, and no wonder.  It didn't make a lot of sense either.

            Jack kissed him, which, in retrospect worked out all right, but really was not the path he'd been planning to take.  He was supposed to be good at things like words and sense, because Eric was the one who was zany and wacky, not Jack.  They were supposed to complement each other.

            But Eric was kissing him back, so he didn't really care about who was zany and who wasn't, because he had better things to be thinking about.

            He wished he knew those girls' address, so he could send them a card or something.


End file.
